


Slurp Crow

by flowersforgraves



Category: Fake AH Crew (Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter)
Genre: Gen, Heist, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: slurp crow /slɜɹp kɹoʊ/verb1. to be humiliated by admitting to have been proven wrong.Trevor's running a heist for the first time. Gavin's got a bad feeling about this. Michael just hopes he'll slurp crow after it's over.
Relationships: Gavin Free & Michael Jones, Lindsay Tuggey Jones & Michael Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Gen Freeform Exchange2020





	Slurp Crow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indefensibleselfindulgence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/gifts).



“Are you sure?” 

Michael throws his hands up. “Now’s not the time for you to be asking that question, Gavin! Time for that question was like, three days ago, when we weren’t in the middle of the fucking plan!” Nonetheless, he folds his arms across his chest and eyes Trevor suspiciously. “So? Are you?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Trevor says, and almost immediately grimaces.

Gavin picks up a pen from Trevor’s desk to twirl around his fingers. “You don’t look like you’re sure. Trevor. We already put Alfredo out there. We already put Jack out there. Geoff’s trusting you.”

Trevor swallows. “I’m nervous, okay? I’m nervous, ‘cause this is one of my first important jobs with you guys, you know? It should all work out, but I’m just nervous.”

Michael and Gavin exchange a glance. “Fine,” Michael says. He’s already edging toward the door, not even trying to hide it. “If this goes badly, I’m gonna haunt your ass just to say I told you so.” He grabs Gavin’s wrist in one hand and his prepped bag in the other, then heads out the door.

Gavin squawks. “Oi! Trevor didn’t say go yet!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says, dragging Gavin down the stairs and into the garage. “Trevor doesn’t know how much fuckin’ traffic there’s gonna be. He’s from _Indiana_.” Michael rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, gesturing at Gavin to get in the passenger seat of his chrome Adder. “All he knows about is fuckin’ corn.”

“Trevor fucks corn,” Gavin says, laughing. He sobers in a moment, though, adding, “I’m actually worried about Jack. The getaway driver is more vulnerable than I think Treycs realizes.”

Michael slings an arm back around the passenger’s seat, twisting around as he throws the Adder in reverse out of the garage. He thinks for a long moment before he responds to Gavin. “We have to trust him.” With a squealing of tires, the Adder leaps forward. There’s a brief, heart-stopping moment where Gavin’s nails dig into Michael’s thigh as they narrowly avoid hitting a passerby on a bike, but Michael course-corrects and sends them screaming down the road toward the nondescript apartment complex where Gavin’s going to spend the next three hours, coordinating movement with Jack over comms. “I trust that Geoff knows what he’s doing when he’s putting his trust in Trevor. I’m skeptical, yeah, but like, I’ll eat crow when we’re done. I’ll be happy to slurp it down.”

“Michael…” Gavin wrinkles his nose. “Do _not_ tell me you want to slurp a crow. I don’t care if it’s true or not, I don’t want to hear it!” 

Michael grins, taking one hand off the wheel to rest his arm faux-casually on the rolled-down window. “Is that better or worse than wet bread?”

“Do _not_!” Gavin yells, but he’s laughing. “You’re right, probably, but, Michael, we can’t afford to fail. And I don’t think Trevor has a good enough head on his shoulders yet. He doesn’t know our skill sets yet.”

“Gavin, 95% of the city knows our skill sets,” Michael says, flicking the blinker on midway through taking a left turn. “Ryan’s gonna be fine,” he adds. “And Jack. They both know when to cut their losses. They’re not stupid like some people.”

Gavin shrugs, grabbing his laptop as Michael pulls into the parking lot of the dilapidated apartment complex. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“Get the fuck out and do your job, then!” Michael laughs as Gavin slams the door and sticks out his tongue.

The door barely shuts before Michael takes off again, this time to set up the last emergency bomb trap. He’s spent the last few days carefully constructing timed traps with Lindsay, then setting them up in a few key locations around the city at their escape routes from the bank. By now, Lindsay should have installed the last one on her half, and he calls her to make sure.

“You got Lindsay!” Her voice is strident across the line despite the rush of sound that means she’s probably on her bike. “What’s up, Michael?”

“Just checking to make sure things are good,” Michael says. “Done?”

“All clear,” she confirms. “You don’t sound so good, though.”

“Gav thinks Trevor doesn’t have a handle on it,” Michael admits. “And I’m inclined to agree. He’s just so nervous all the time, Lindsay.”

The muffled sound of the wind is the only thing from Lindsay’s end for a long time. “Remember the first heist I ran?”

Michael snorts. “How the fuck would I forget?”

“Gav had a bad feeling about that one too,” she says.

“Geoff _died_ , Lindsay,” Michael says. “That was a completely justified bad feeling.” He slows down as he starts looking for the spot Lindsay’d marked off yesterday. 

He can almost hear her shrug. “He got better. And that was his fault to begin with. I told all of you not to engage the LSPD,” she points out. “But what I’m saying is that Gavin’s been wrong before. And Geoff put the crew in Trevor’s hands, so if you can’t trust Trevor right now, then at least trust Geoff’s judgement.”

Michael laughs. “I said that to him.” He parks the Adder and takes his bag out of the passenger seat. “It just didn’t help.”

“Well, I can’t fix your brain,” Lindsay says. She sounds louder now, and the muffled wind sound has all but disappeared. “Hold on, Matt’s calling me.”

“Right, yeah, Gav should be on the line pretty soon too,” Michael says. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Soon,” Lindsay echoes, and hangs up.

Michael hums to himself, waiting for his phone to ring. Gavin is supposed to be adding everyone to the group call shortly; the heist is set to kick off in less than ten minutes now. His hands are steady as he pulls the bomb components from his bag and sets them up, arranging some weeds and dirt artfully over the top of the bucket holding the whole thing together. It looks innocuous enough, and just as he finishes, Gavin’s voice crackles to life in his ear.

“Testing, testing, sound off everyone!” Gavin sounds cheery in the fatalistic way Michael doesn’t like, but he waits his turn -- Kingpin, Second, Vagabond, “Mogar,” Michael says, Golden Boy, Rimmy Tim, and his chest is tight with anxiety.

“HEIST!” Trevor shouts into the phone, and the tension drains away. Now Michael’s only worried about the moment, listening for callouts as Jeremy and Geoff slip through bank security. 

He opens a private line to Lindsay. “Is Matt still being Matt at you?”

Lindsay picks up with a sunny, “Yep!” Lindsay in heist mode is close to regular Lindsay, but the intensity is turned up to an uncomfortable degree. Michael can only assume Matt is getting the full force of it, but he still feels blown back by the force of her personality. “What did you need?”

He shrugs even though she can’t see it. “Like I said, Gavin had a bad feeling about this.”

Speak of the devil. Gavin’s opened a private line to him, and he switches over quickly. “‘Sup, Gav?” he asks.

Gavin still sounds horrifyingly upbeat, but less so than he had at the beginning. “Matt’s covering the bank security, right, and I’m coordinating the exit, right, and Matt just texted me to say that the shitting bank cameras are going to come back on about ten minutes earlier than we expected. I think we are going to need those extra bombs, actually.”

“Great,” Michael snarls. “That’s fine. That’s great, actually. That’s fine.”

Gavin sighs. “You’re melting my damn earpiece with that sarcasm,” he says. “Just keep an eye on the callouts. Fredo is out there already, and so’s Fiona. They’re going to try and cover Geoff and Li’l J on the immediate exit, but it’s going to fall on you and Lindsay to take care of the rest. Jack’s good, but that’s not an armored car, you know?”

Michael bites his lip. “I know. I’ll pass that to Lindsay. Where’s Ryan in all this? I thought he was supposed to be cover on the exit too.”

“Yeah, he is,” Gavin says, “but Trevor wants to hold him in reserve. I don’t think it’s a good idea, and I told him so, but he’s set on it.”

“In reserve for what?” Michael asks incredulously. “That’s what the reserve is for!”

“‘Just in case,’ he said,” Gavin says. “I dunno either, Michael-boi. But everything’s gonna get hot in about five minutes.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Michael says, not bothering to hide the edge to his voice, and then the line goes static as Gavin hangs up. “Lindsay?” he asks, switching back to the line.

“Speaking,” she replies. “Matt’s done, by the way.”

“Gav just called me. We’re almost certainly on deck.”

“Shit,” Lindsay says. “What went wrong?”

“Nothing yet,” Michael says. “But Matt just texted Grabby and said the bank cameras are going down for half the time we planned for, and Treyco says he’s not letting Ryan loose until later, so it’s just Fiona and Alfredo and us.”

“Goddamn,” Lindsay mumbles. “Okay. I’ll get ready.”

“Gravin says five minutes,” Michael says, and a tendril of fear coils in his gut. “Or less.”

“Sounds like less, from the callouts.”

Michael hurriedly tunes back into the main channel just in time to hear Alfredo say calmly, “I’ve got a shot on the CFO. If I take it you’ll have to get out of there now, but I might not get another chance.”

Jeremy says, “I’m fine either way.” He sounds relaxed, but all the Fakes know him well enough to hear the tension in his voice. Michael can almost imagine the tight set of his shoulders as he paces back and forth, waiting for Geoff to pick the lock. “We’re in the vault, we can grab some shit and run if we have to.”

“Rather we didn’t have to,” Geoff adds.

“I’d rather we did this as quietly as possible,” Trevor says. “Hold off until they’re outside, Sauce. Once Kingpin and Rimmy are out of the way, go fucking nuts.”

Michael breathes out, reaching into the glove compartment of the Adder to grab the remote triggers. “Second, I’m going to need callouts when you’ve got Kingpin and Rimmy. If you can’t do it, I expect Golden Boy will cover me.”

“Ten-four, Mogar,” Jack says.

“Ten-four,” Gavin echoes. 

There’s a tense minute where nothing happens. Michael hates not being in there with Geoff and Jeremy, but he’s a goddamn professional and doesn’t open his mouth even to tease Gavin. Then, Jeremy’s voice comes over the line again. “We’re clear. Took the shit we could, left the rest. Kingpin fuckin’ relocked the vault. Heading out.”

That doesn’t warrant a sigh of relief, not yet, but it’s going better than Michael expected. Of course, as soon as he has the thought, Matt unmutes and says, “Cameras going live in ten, Kingpin, Rimmy. Their security was better than I thought. I’ve been compensating but I’m gonna run out in five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

“You can’t give us ten more seconds, Axial?” Geoff asks sharply.

“I already gave you ten more seconds, probably about ten times,” Matt says, annoyed. “I’m not slacking.”

“Fuck,” is Geoff’s only reply.

“We’re out,” Jeremy says. “But they definitely saw us.”

“Big commotion out front,” Fiona warns. “Sauce and I have snipers, not machine guns.”

“Loot acquired!” Jack’s voice is accompanied by the sound of an engine, and Michael finally lets himself relax. “We’re on our way to Meeting Point Needle.”

Michael quickly finds the relevant remote detonator, and starts the Adder. He’s not ready to make a run for it yet, but it pays to be prepared. “Get me those callouts, Goldie!” he snaps.

“Keep your damn pants on,” Gavin snipes back. “I’ll tell you when.”

The squeal of police sirens starts, faintly off in the distance. There’s a horrible staticky version coming in through what must be Ryan’s comm at a half-second delay, and Michael grits his teeth. “Goldie…”

“We’re clear, Mogar,” Jack says flatly. “Cops are far enough back for Golden Boy to call it.”

Michael shifts the Adder out of park, and makes a three-point turn to rendezvous with the others. 

“Here it comes,” Gavin says. “Steady. Steady. Mogar, now!”

Michael slams his fist down on the red button. There’s an explosion in the near distance, and he pumps his fist in the air. “Woo hoo! Now we’re heistin’!” he yells into his comm as he speeds off. 

This is the part where the tension breaks. Alfredo’s already complaining about not getting to take out the CFO, while Lindsay whoops so loudly Michael almost slams the brakes. Gavin is congratulating Matt on “a job sort of well done” and Fiona is laughing maniacally. 

He’s probably going to have to apologize to Trevor when they get to Meeting Point Needle, and given the alternative, Michael’s glad to do it. He’ll slurp crow any day if it means they’re all still in one piece.


End file.
